"Carley, I've come to ask you to reconsider," he said, with a smile in his
gray eyes. He was not a tall or handsome man, but he had what women called
a nice strong face.
"Elbert, you embarrass me," she replied, trying to laugh it out. "Indeed I
feel honored, and I thank you. But I can't marry you."
"Why not?" he asked, quietly.
"Because I don't love you," she replied.
"I did not expect you to," he said. "I hoped in time you might come to
care. I've known you a good many years, Carley. Forgive me if I tell you I
see you are breaking--wearing yourself down. Maybe it is not a husband you
need so much now, but you do need a home and children. You are wasting your
life."
"All you say may be true, my friend," replied Carley, with a helpless
little upflinging of hands. "Yet it does not alter my feelings."
"But you will marry sooner or later?" he queried, persistently.
This straightforward question struck Carley as singularly as if it was one
she might never have encountered. It forced her to think of things she had
buried.
"I don't believe I ever will," she answered, thoughtfully.
"That is nonsense, Carley," he went on. "You'll have to marry. What else
can you do? With all due respect to your feelings--that affair with
Kilbourne is ended--and you're not the wishy-washy heartbreak kind of a
girl.
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